[Slowly, hazily-- his wide, owlish eyes affixed their glassy stare upon Peter. Oscar vaguely recognized the person that had plopped down beside him, registering only that this person was a friend and little more.
It was clear that he was looking at something beyond Peter's reach, for better or for worse.]
....how can anyone be okay when she is still out there?
[He drawled, words slurring as he fought to gain control over his tongue and his capacity to converse at the same time. It felt as if he were on the wrong side of a window, with only ghosts within his reach.]
How long do we have to fight? How many more must fight someone who can't die?
it's fine!
It was clear that he was looking at something beyond Peter's reach, for better or for worse.]
....how can anyone be okay when she is still out there?
[He drawled, words slurring as he fought to gain control over his tongue and his capacity to converse at the same time. It felt as if he were on the wrong side of a window, with only ghosts within his reach.]
How long do we have to fight? How many more must fight someone who can't die?